Category Archives: Erotic Writing

“There’s a time and place for everything, and I believe it’s called ‘fan fiction’.”
― Joss Whedon

Disclaimer: Spike & Buffy are property of Mutant Enemy & Joss Whedon. I don’t own Spike & Buffy, I just borrow them for writing masturbation fodder.

“Let’s play a game Spike,” Buffy says, tilting her head coyly, her curly blonde ponytail brushing her nearly bare shoulders. As she enters Spike’s crypt, the heels of her black boots click against the stone floor. Spike looks up from his couch but away from her, avoiding eye contact. He’s immediately turned on by her sweet smell and gorgeous, petite figure, and this annoys the hell out of him.

“Oh right, is this the game where we destroy a house with our naked wrestling, and then you call me disgusting in the morning?” he says, meeting her eyes now, his lips twitching.

“Or the one where you kick my ass and go off about how you’re the good one, and I’m all pure evil, blood sucking and demon-like?” he says, picking up a glass of vodka on the table next to him, “Because I’m really not in the mood for either one, pet.”

Buffy puts her free hand on her hip and smirks.

“Maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe something completely different,” she says.

Spike raises his eyebrow as he notices the black leather bag that Buffy holds in her other hand. He leans back on the couch, trying to hide his curiosity.

“I’m really not in the mood for games, love. Not tonight. If you want to get me naked just say so, or get out.”

“Don’t call me love.”

Buffy approaches him, setting the bag on the floor nearby. She lifts herself on to his lap, straddling him. Her warmth is intoxicating, her breath a seductive whisper. He looks up at her, confused. She doesn’t usually act like this.

“Call me Slayer.”

“Oh, what is this? Are you on some kind of power trip? More than usual I mean. Are you going to tell me what to do now?” he says. “Do you want me to pretend I’m afraid of the big bad Slayer?”

“Shut up Spike,” Buffy answers as she delivers a nasty blow to his jaw, the aching from her powerful force echoing through his cheek.

“Bloody hell, woman, what do you want from me?” he says, rubbing his face.

“For one, don’t call me woman.”

“Fine, Slayer, what are you getting at?”

“I told you I want to play a game,” Buffy says, pouting her lips a little, running her hands along his chest, “and the first rule is, that you belong to me, get it?”

“Oh yeah, since when?” says Spike, rolling his eyes. “Are you going to tell your friends about us, about these little games you love so much?”

“Shut up Spike.” Buffy pulls her fist back, “unless you want me to hit you again?”

“Fine, I’m yours. What do you want from me?”

“Hmm, what do I want?” Buffy moves closer against him, sliding her hips until they lock in with his, their noses almost touching. She wraps her hands around his neck, squeezing.

“Ow, Buffy” Spike gasps as her grip tightens, “that hurts!”

“It’s supposed to,” she smirks, “I can tell you like it.”

He hardens beneath her, his body responding to the pain the way she knew it would. She releases his neck, moving her hands down to his collar.

She pulls him in close, her lips to his ear. Spike tries not to shake as his whole body tenses from the feel of her on top of him, from her breath, her soft skin.

“I told you not to call me Buffy,” she whispers, biting him on the neck, roughly.

He groans with the pain, but it only makes him harder, makes him want her more.

“It’s your turn to see how it feels,” she says before she pulls herself away from him, standing up. Spike rubs his neck, trying to pretend he’s annoyed when really he just wants her to do it again, to do anything that involves her touching him.

“So, what’s the game, Slayer?” he asks, trying to sound cool.

Buffy picks up the bag from the floor and pulls out heavy shackles and chains.

“It’s about trust, Spike,” she says. His eyes widen. He flinches a little as the chains clang loudly when she drops them onto the table.

She lifts up her black halter, slowly, revealing her smooth skin and bare breasts beneath. Spike opens his mouth, tilting his head slightly as he eyes her lustfully.

“So, do you trust me?” she asks.

“Well now, this could be incredibly kinky, and in that case, I’m in,” he says, running his fingers through his peroxide blonde hair. He stands up, walking towards her, “Or maybe, you’ve decided you’re done with the games, and you have a stake in that bag,” he says as he circles around her, looking down into her green eyes. He stops.

“Hardly,” he scoffs back. “Fine, I’ll play. You might as well put me out of my damn misery anyway, it’s not like I have anything to live for.”

“Oh, don’t say that Spikey, you have plenty to live for…at least until I’m done with you. Now be a good beastie and do as I say.”

Buffy walks over to the bed, feeding the chain through solid metal hooks on the wall.

“Down, Spike,” she says, nodding at the bed. He lies down, letting her lock the cuffs around his wrists.

“So, what’ll it be Slayer? What do you want from me?” he says, trying to mask his slight fear and overwhelming longing for her.

“You know what I want,” she says as she pulls off his pants, revealing his hard, pale, icy cock.

Spike smiles his evil smile, ready to get down to it, but Buffy punches him in the chest, her little knuckles leaving his skin burning.

“Ow, bloody hell!”

“I want to hurt you,” Buffy says, “And I want you to like it.”

This time she slaps his chin, his neck twisting from the power of her hand, the pain echoing through his skin and downwards.

“I like it,” he says, “You know I do.”

“Good,” she says, pulling off her boots, jeans, and lacy panties.

Buffy jumps on top of him, straddling him again, but this time she rubs herself over his cock, her clit tingling as it grazes him.

She grabs his nipples, her super strength pinching them way past the point of light foreplay. It feels like she’s ripping them off. Spike growls, his arms thrashing as he tries to break free. Buffy stops, staring at him solemnly. He thinks he sees love in her sad eyes, something real. His thoughts are interrupted as she slaps him again, without breaking her gaze. And again, and again.

Just as he begins to feel dizzy, his head pounding, she stops. She leans in and kisses him, and everything disappears, the aching he always feels, the pain, the longing. There’s only her sweet taste, her opposing strength and her soft feel, her smell.

And suddenly, a sharp jab at his heart. Literally. While she was kissing him, she’d reached beside the bed and pulled a stake out of her bag. He stiffens as she presses it lightly on his skin, smiling now.

Spike’s eyes widen; this time he can’t think of a witty comment. He looks up at her, half hoping she’s serious, that she’ll just kill him already.

Oh, what’s the use, he thinks. He relaxes his body, giving in. He closes his eyes. He feels the sharp end begin to pierce his skin, blood trickling lightly. The pain is nothing compared to what’s inside, beneath it. “Just do it already,” he says. Just when he thinks it’s really over, Buffy slides his cock inside her and clenches her warm wetness around him.

Spike moans, opening his eyes. Her hair falls over her face and her beautiful breasts, and she looks down on him, gasping. “Tell me you’re mine, Spike,” she says as she thrusts her hips, her hand pressing against where the stake was, blood smearing beneath her fingers.

Like this:

From the time she was a little girl, Little Red’s mother always told her who she was. You’re so sweet, she’d say, so innocent and kind. You’re so beautiful, with your perfect, pale skin and deep, shining blue eyes.

Every day she dressed her in frills and lace, tying her pigtails neatly, lacing her little body up tight with a cream colored corset, layering on petticoats and stockings. The finishing touch was always her flowing red cape, the only color in her various ensembles.

Little Red’s mother never let her leave their home or their yard, warning her of the dangers in the neighboring woods. She said there was a Big Bad Wolf out there, a huge, ugly creature with sharp teeth who ate little girls. Whenever she heard strange sounds from the forest at night, Little Red pulled the covers over her face, afraid the wolf would come to get her.

Little Red tried her best to be a good girl, hiding behind her hood whenever she went outside. She kept her eyes low and her voice soft. Little Red always did as she was told.

But as years passed and Little Red matured, she grew tired of the itchy lace, the restrictive clothing, and most of all, the expectation that she would always be perfect Little Red, quiet and proper.

One day, while Little Red’s mother went to town for a few days, Little Red grew bored and restless. She wandered outside, yearning to know what was beyond their picket fence. The summer’s heat was suffocating, and she felt like she might faint. If her mother had been around, she would have told her to go inside and lie down, to rest. But Little Red was tired of listening to mother.

Beads of sweat dripping down her back, Little Red decided to try to cool off, so she could explore further. She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her stockings, instantly relieved by the freeing feeling of air on her bare legs. She pulled off her petticoat, and after some struggle, managed to untie her corset, letting it drop to the ground. She removed everything except her cape, since she’d always liked it. It was the only color in her monotonous life.

As she walked towards the front gate, Little Red caught a glimpse of her reflection in the silver mailbox and was surprised by what she saw: two round, perky breasts, a small waist, curvy hips, a little bush of hair between her legs, and a slit of flesh below it. She’d never really looked at herself naked before, at least not all together at once. She realized she was beautiful, even without the lace and the gowns.

With only her cape, Little Red ran away from her house and into the woods, afraid of what she might find, but tired of feeling scared, sheltered, and weak. The terrain was uneven, so she used a long stick that she found to help her along her trek. So far nothing seemed frightening, and the sound of birds singing comforted her.

As she came around a large tree, Little Red saw something peculiar on the ground. At first she was thought it was some sort of small creature, but it wasn’t moving. She approached it cautiously, and found that it was a long white and grey tail, but it didn’t belong to any animal. When she picked it up, she realized it had a piece of glass attached to it, as if it were some sort of decoration.

Confused, Little Red sat in front of the big tree, feeling the smooth glass and running her fingers through the soft fur. She had no idea what it was for, but she sat there for a while, mesmerized by its beauty.

The longer she held the tail, the more Little Red realized how unhappy she’d been lately, how sad and unsatisfied. She petted the smooth fur as she thought, calmed by it. For a moment she considered returning home with the tail, so she could find out who it belonged to, when suddenly she realized, beyond a doubt, that the tail was in fact meant for her.

As if by magic, the glass piece attached to the tail was cold despite the heat outside, and Little Red dragged it across her bare skin, first on her neck and around her breasts, then moving lower. Her skin tingled, and wetness blossomed between her thighs. Her eyes, which were usually wide, half closed as she moaned, her legs shaking and her breath wavering, as she reached her first high of orgasmic pleasure.

Afterwards, Little Red collapsed in a heap on the ground, panting. Now she knew why her mother had tried to hide her beneath layers of clothing, and why she wouldn’t let her alone in the forest. Little Red had discovered the power her body was capable of. She wasn’t a perfect little porcelain girl at all, she was meant to be wild. Nothing could stop her.

She shed her cape, the last thing holding her back, and lay on the forest floor, writhing in the leaves and dirt, the sun warming her naked flesh. Little Red finally knew what to do. She took the cool glass piece of the tail and rolled over on her side, touching herself. As she reached her second orgasm, she pushed the glass into herself from behind. She gasped as it entered her, as she transformed.

She rose from the ground, reborn, blood coursing through her veins with a heat from deep within her. She saw the red cape on the ground and almost didn’t recognize it.

She wasn’t Little Red anymore.

She laughed at the thought of who she’d once been, that scared, frilly little girl. She got on all fours and wagged her tail, growling. A fierce, lustful hunger consumed her.

***

When Little Red’s mother finally returned home from town, she was distraught to find that Little Red wasn’t in her room. As she looked all around the house, she heard a chilling howl in the distance, a sound unlike anything she’d heard before. It resembled that of a wolf, but slightly higher pitched, and much more frightening. She shuddered, worried that she’d never see her Little Red again.

I open, Jake thrusts, and I moan around him as my throat is filled with his hardness and at the same time my cunt with Adam’s. I take him in all the way, and suck and suck and forget to breathe until he pulls out, gasping as he rubs himself on my face. Adam moves faster now, and every push feels intensified by the pressure of his girth on my g-spot.

“I’m a good little slut, aren’t I?” I ask as I gasp for air and think about how I must remember to breathe next time.

“Yes, you are.”

He moves Adam away from me, freeing my hands.

“Put your hands on my cock,” he says. Now Adam’s pace matches Jake’s, fast thrusts that seem to echo inside of me. My bush is sticky with a mixture of juices and lube, and Jake grabs it, pulling it roughly, how I like it.

My body skips back and forth between my twitching, full cunt, and my wide, full mouth, both dripping.

Jake pulls out again, and shoves my head lower. He’s still wet with my spit, and I stroke him while I lick and suck his balls. He touches my clit for the first time, and my head swirls, my muscles tightening and aching for release.

I moan, moving even lower to his ass, until all I can see and smell is his flesh. I attack it, firing my tongue in rapid circles.

“Oh fuck that feels good,” he says, groaning.

I moan back in answer from below him, and somehow I’m able to keep licking and stroking as I come hard, clenching around Adam as my hips grind up against Jake’s fingers. My pleasure fuels Jake’s, and he joins me in orgasm, his thighs tightening as he squirts onto my neck, my chin, and a few tasty drops on my lips.

Afterwards Jake and I clean up a bit and head to the kitchen to make dinner.

Having served his purpose, Adam gets a quick shower and returns to his drawer, until next time.

After a Sunday evening of sex, going out for hot wings, and watching the new episode of The Walking Dead, Jake and I have just curled up in bed. Grateful for the soothing feeling of finally being completely still, my tired muscles begin to loosen and settle. I feel Jake shift towards me, and although sleep is beckoning, I open my eyes a little to find him giving me a lustful look. His right arm is beneath the comforter, and I move it to the side, revealing his hand on his erect cock.

At first I think he’s going to reach for me, to try to turn me on and awaken me fully for more sex, and I can’t help but think about how I have to be up in exactly 8 hours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he simply smiles and says, “Babe, can I jack off while I look at your pussy?”

The calm of his voice, the mixture of affection and arousal on his face, and his simple request sends warmth between my legs, and I feel blood begin to pulse in the part of me he desires.

“Sure baby,” I say, as I shift the covers and open my legs, pulling my panties aside.

“Mmm,” he groans softly as he strokes himself, “it’s so pretty.”

I scoot my ass closer to him, and pull up my t-shirt, gently caressing my breasts. I love watching him touch himself, I love the intimacy of seeing how he plays when I’m not around. Now that I’m closer he reaches out with his free hand, and gently opens my lips a little, feeling around my bush.

“I love how hairy it is. I love everything about it,” he says.

By now my clit is more awake than the rest of me and longs for touch, and I lick a finger and gently attend to it. Jake’s still moving steadily, exploring, but in a way that implies he doesn’t need me to do anything besides lie there for him to admire. For a moment he stops touching himself, and places his face between my legs, giving me a single, long, slow lick before moving back to his original position.

He continues to gaze at my pussy as he strokes himself, and his enthralled expression makes me warm and wet, my fingers gliding easily. I can see and feel him adoring my cunt, even though he’s no longer touching me. I near the edge of an orgasm, and I can sense that he is as well by his increasing speed and intensity.

“I want you to come on me,” I say, moving towards him.

“Where?” he asks.

My first instincts make me say, “On my nipple,” since it’s closest to him, and the perked pink seems like the perfect place. But as we near our climaxes together, I change my mind.

I want more than his warmth on my skin, I want to taste him, to feel our connection.

“No, in my mouth,” I gasp as my legs tighten with my blossoming pleasure and moans seep from my lips. He moves over me.

“Now,” he says.

Just as he begins to flow, I cup his head between my warm lips, shuddering with the last moments of my own ecstasy, sucking him gently as he groans and his thrusts slow to a stop. I release him from my mouth’s grip, and he squeezes out one last bit.

I lick it off and smile up at him. We kiss and mutter words about how hot it was, and say goodnight.

And as I gently slip back into the cocoon of sleep, I savor the lasting taste of him.

Stretched out before me are naked women on all fours, asses in the air, heads down, in a line. I don’t know who they are or where they came from, nor do I care. All I know is that I like the view, a landscape of curving fleshy hills, hips shoved together, open, willing holes, and perched feet. Jake, towering like a God with his long curly hair and toned muscles, stands motionless nearby, awaiting my commands.

I approach a curvy bottom, attracted to her pink, dangling lips, and the mess of long, dark brown hair that covers her face near the ground like a thick curtain.

“Give her pretty little pussy 3 licks,” I say, pointing.

Her thighs twitch as he approaches, and he moves his tongue slowly, taking his time. When he’s done, she stays completely still, and so does he.

“Now, beg him to fuck you,” I say, as I run my hand between her cheeks. I move to Jake, and continue, “And you, spank her until you really believe that she wants it.”

Her voice rises like smoke from below, and starts as a soft whisper, “Please, fuck me.” The thud from Jake’s palm echoes her words, and she begins to ask louder, “Please, please, fuck me.”

“Harder!” I order, as his hand strikes each side, his hits gradually escalating in intensity.

It’s not long before her gorgeous, supple ass is bright pink, her legs are quivering, and she’s screaming, pleading, crying for his cock. I wait until I see moisture trickling down her legs.

“Now, fuck her.”

I growl as his hardness parts her swollen folds, and they both grunt in unison as his hips slap against her flushed skin.

“Now, stop,” I say after only a few moments, knowing she needs much more, knowing she’s aching to be filled and fulfilled.

“Get up and come fuck me like a good little slut,” I say, and like an eager puppy she kneels in front of me, wasting no time before she’s licking and pushing fingers into me like she’s searching for a much needed treat. I haven’t seen her face until now, and I admire her bright green eyes when she glances up to see how I’m responding as her mouth is buried. She wiggles her ass, and I pet it softly, sinking into the feelings of her hot lips, her slippery tongue, and her greedy fingers.

“Who wants to get fucked next?” I gasp loudly, trying to retain control as my legs shake and my breathing sputters.

A chorus of desperate voices cries out, “Me, please, me!”

“Start with her,” I say, pointing to the nearest woman, “and then keep going down the row, all of them.”

I watch as Jake moves from one to the next, and with each gasp, each quiver as the hot head of his cock enters, I fall deeper into my own pleasure. Women at the end of the line grow impatient, shaking and dripping, begging for him to hurry so they can have a turn.

I close my eyes and enjoy the sounds, the heavy breathing, the moaning, the screams of ecstasy. My woman’s tongue moves faster, and she pushes her wet cunt onto my leg, and groans as her now plump clit rubs against my bare skin. My pussy grips her skilled fingers, and suddenly I feel my urgent need.

“Do you want me to come on you?” I ask her, already knowing her answer.

“Yes, please,” she replies instantly. “Come on my face, on my breasts, in my mouth,” she says as she pulls her lips off, my juices smeared all over her beautiful cheeks, her fingers still pulling and rubbing me frantically.

I scream and push her out, and she tilts her head back, mouth open, as my wetness showers her. When I’m done, she licks the remaining liquid from my thighs, her hands gripping my legs, her hair drenched. I grab her by the chin roughly, pulling her face up until she’s close, gazing into my eyes.

“Do you want to get back in line now my dear; do you want that hard cock inside of you?”

“Yes, oh please god yes,” she says, touching herself at the thought. I give her the go ahead and she crouches at the end of the row, sticking her ass up to match all of the others.

Jake’s still making his way down the line like I told him, and the ones who have already been fucked lay collapsed in a heap, arms and legs tangled. I walk slowly toward them, and they gaze up at me attentively. I rub one of my bare feet along a curvy blonde woman’s chest, and she swallows one of my toes, sucking gently. They all stare at me, waiting.

“Who wants another turn?” I ask to no one in particular.

“Me!” they all answer anxiously.

“You’ll have to work for it,” I tease, and they surround me, pleading with their bodies, every limb busy trying to compete for my attention. I sigh as someone’s fingers press inside, and a mouth circles my clit, teeth biting my nipples, tongues in both ears, feet covered by hot, damp lips and hands caressing every morsel of my skin.

After coming again and again, after I’ve covered them all with my sweat and come and sex, I send them back to the line, where Jake’s still busy. I take a break to give more orders, like fuck her mouth, now take her ass, now grip her neck, move to the next, now finger the pussy on each side of you as you thrust, now rub your cock between her breasts.

I touch myself as I watch, and after they’ve all been fucked, I ask, “Now, who wants his come?”

They all shout a different answer:

“Please, me!”

“No, on my big tits!”

“On my wet cunt”

“Please, on my pretty face”

“Me, on my ass”

“Inside my ass!”

“Please, in my mouth!”

They crowd around him, gaping holes, perked nipples, thrashing limbs, fighting, entwined together like a net.

I see the woman, my favorite, who so willingly drank my come like a delicacy, and I lean over and rub her head, nodding at Jake towards her. She opens her mouth again, eyes wide as he spurts into her parted lips.

When he’s done, he’s still hard, his cock trembling.

“Get back in line,” I demand, and they quickly form a new row, sticking their asses as high as possible, scrambling to get a spot close to where I stand.

I look at Jake and smile. He can’t make a move without my word, his dick is mine. He raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, questioning.

Like this:

Every time I sit, the pressure on my finger shaped bruises makes me wince. This morning (more like afternoon) I woke up sore in all sorts of weird places: my knees, my pussy, my neck, my legs, but mainly my poor ass. I’ve been spanked before, but these strong, relentless slaps left my butt streaked with purple and red, and my skin sore to the slightest touch.

As always Jake has been giving me lusty looks all day, and I admit I’ve been trying to keep myself busy with other things. As hot as the flashbacks make me, like remembering being yanked up from the floor by my hair or whispered words of filth while he’s inside, my body says no. It says I need a fucking break, literally.

All day I’ve struggled with this, with the arousal bubbling inside me as my mind wanders to the previous night’s ecstasy, and my sore muscles and bruises protesting with every move. I park my computer on my lap like a castle moat, hoping to protect myself from Jake’s delicious but at the moment potentially painful touch. I think he’s got the hint, and although he’s made a few suggestive comments, we’ve each been busy doing other things.

In an absent minded moment, I make the mistake of pulling my tank top down below my breast to caress my sore nipple, and before I know it Jake’s lips have taken over, the bulge in his shorts hardening instantly.

“Be gentle,” I say, giggling, as he releases my other breast, “they’re still really sore.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he rubs his hand over my panties.

“And what about this?” He squeezes it gently, awakening my clit.

“Yes, that too. I don’t know if I can handle being fucked again yet.”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking.”

With that he licks his middle finger, reaching inside this time. I close my eyes and focus on his hands, and his warm breath alternating between my nipples and my lips. Lustful memories surface again, and when I open my eyes, I know he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re such a good little slut,” he says.

“Yes,” I answer, smiling, “I am.”

Anxious to prove it, I pull down a blanket from the futon and kneel on it in front of him, ignoring the thudding pain from my bruises. I start from below, licking slowly, using my tongue to bounce his cock back and forth. I take my time, I take him all the way in, I kiss every inch. I close my eyes again, and I rub him over my face, on my chest, on my lips. I don’t understand why some women hate giving oral; there’s so much power in it.

His body sunk into the couch, his dick in my mouth, the glazed look in his eyes. He is mine, and I love it.

I feel him getting close, his balls moving upwards and his thighs clenching, and I stop. His hand is quickly where my mouth was, and he watches as I stand up silently. I don’t have to say what I want, he knows I’ve changed my mind; not only can I handle being fucked again, I want to be fucked again, I need it.

The next few minutes are a mess of heavy breathing, clothing flying through the air, and a race of mouths to body parts. I win, swallowing him, and he comes in a close second, three fingers inside me tugging at my g-spot like it’s war. I let out a muffled moan, and try to remember to suck as I’m quickly distracted by the rockets of heat shooting from my thighs and now a finger in my ass. I realize he’s not in my mouth anymore when I open my eyes, but his cock is still hard and ready without my assistance. I don’t protest as he buries himself between my legs, and my moaning crescendos with every lick.

I’m at the top, I can almost feel my Everest, my peak, when he gives me a taste of my own bittersweet medicine, pulling his fingers out and mouth off of my hot wetness just before I make it.

In this position, with him thrusting from behind and pulling my arms backward, I can’t move an inch. All I can do is moan into the sheets and my knotted hair beneath me. At first I protest a little, trying to break from his grip. He holds tight.

“Oh that feels so good,” I mumble, and for a minute he lessens his hold. I take advantage of this, trying to sneak my hand around, but it’s twisted back behind me before I can say, “fuck.”

I give up, letting my pussy feel him from within instead. I can’t see anything, fused to the bed, wet and tangled. He twists a little, pulling my hips up, and gets me where I need it.

“Oh, god, please!”

“Now!” he answers, releasing my right hand but still thrusting, and as soon as I touch myself I crumble, my body flooded with a pleasure so strong it could carve rocks or uproot trees. I’m useless for a few moments, a sweaty clenching mess, but he keeps going.

Almost every time I orgasm, I think I can’t take anymore, can’t take anymore pleasure. But I can. And I feel the greed growing inside, the need for more. I climb on top of him, making sure to rub my hips for just the right amount of friction. I spin around, reverse, and hold my cheeks open as I slow down a bit. I need another one, another orgasm, another release. He senses me slowing, sees my creeping fingers, and pulls me down on top of him.

I love how he throws me around like I’m weightless, and soon I’m below him again, face to face. I can tell he’s close by the primal look in his eyes, and hoping to join him I tap on my clit.

“No,” he says, pinning my arms. He gazes into me as he moves faster, and I thrust myself up to meet him. My clit throbs and feels like it will burst open, but I ignore it. Bound and forced to focus on only the feeling of his cock, the fire inside me grows, feelings flashing like sparks in every direction. My moaning becomes screaming as he moves harder, and then I lose my breath, gasping as I erupt from inside out. Jake mirrors my explosion with his own, hot spurts sprinkling my stomach.

After, being the gentleman he is, Jake towels me off as I lay motionless on the bed, regaining my energy. He turns me over, caressing my sore bottom, tracing a sticky spot he missed over my sensitive skin.

“That was hot,” I say, “you denying me another clitoral orgasm.”

He’s done this before, kept me from touching myself, but he usually touches me instead, or eventually lets me go. For us it’s usually more about teasing than power-play.

“I wouldn’t have had that amazing g-spot orgasm, my clit gets too greedy,” I continue, “I love how sometimes you know just what I need. Like today, mmm.”

Like this:

The night was warm and wet, and small beads of sweat trickled between my breasts. I felt like walking sex with so much bare skin showing in my vintage tube top, and I felt curious eyes drift over me as I returned to our table with a fresh beer. Putting a hand on his leg as I dipped into my seat, I followed Jake’s lustful gaze.

“What about her?” he asked, eyeing a young blonde in a flowery dress.

“She looks a little prissy,” I answered, “but hot.”

“I wonder if she would be interested in both of us,” Jake mused, moving closer.

“I wonder what her pussy looks like,” I said, glancing around to gauge if anyone could hear our conversation.

If they could, they didn’t show it.

When we got home later, I told Jake I was tired and wanted go to sleep soon. I could tell he craved a late night fuck, but I wanted to torture him a little. Sitting on the futon together, I put my bare feet in his lap and told him to rub them as we talked and watched TV. Since we had been checking people out together all night, the topic of threesomes drifted into our conversation again, and I mentioned a tall, cute guy with brown hair I had flirted with while ordering a drink at the bar.

“I think he wanted to fuck me,” I said.

“Of course he did,” Jake said, kissing my toes playfully.

“Next time you should tell him to come home with us,” he continued, “if you want to get fucked extra hard.”

I couldn’t help but rub myself gently over my panties, picturing Jake and the other man standing over me, two big hands on my breasts and two squeezing my ass.

“Where would you want us to come?” he asked.

“Hmm, I guess it depends on what position I’m in,” I answered, feeling my pussy moisten through the soft cotton, my nipples perking in anticipation.

Not wasting any time, we rushed to the bedroom, peeling off our clothes along the way.

“I want to be your fuck toy tonight,” I said as he stood at the edge of the bed, his cock rising like a proud flag.

Without using my hands, I searched for his penis with my mouth, and he waved it back in forth, his hardness hitting my cheek.

“You don’t get it yet,” he said slyly, grabbing my chin with one hand and holding my face to his. I looked into his eyes and saw that his look had intensified.

“Lie on your back,” he instructed, and I quickly changed positions, with my body lying face up on the bed, my head tilted back over the edge near where he stood, almost upside down.

Without asking, he thrust himself into my mouth, and I frantically moved my tongue around him, eager to please. He held my arms down on the bed, trapping me in my deliciously vulnerable position.

“All the way,” he said softly, although still in a rough, aroused voice, “you can do it.”

I stopped moving my tongue and focused all of my effort on relaxing every muscle in my throat and moving my head so he was at just the right angle. He thrusted hard, and I was amazed with how far he went. I’ve deep throated him plenty of times, but in this position it felt like he was further inside than ever before.

“That’s it,” he said, “good girl.”

By now I could feel my pussy dripping and pulsing with excitement, even though he hadn’t touched me yet. He kept thrusting, deeper and deeper, and I gagged a few times, not enough to make me stop, but enough to make me feel even more out of control, even more that I wanted nothing other than to give him immense pleasure.

Just when the thrusting began to feel like too much, too hard, too fast, he grabbed my hair and pulled my head up towards his. His cheek now pressed roughly against mine, he held one hand tight around my neck and the other parted my throbbing lips, his fingers moving hard inside me. I could feel my spit dripping down my neck.

“You’re a good little mouth,” he said, as I moaned with the sudden powerful penetration, “and a good pussy” I answered, nodding my head slightly as he continued.

“Just imagine,” he said, “soon we will do this again, but while you’re busy sucking my dick, you’re going to get fucked too.”

His words came to life in my mind, and I pictured another hard cock filling up my mouth, silencing my moans and gasps, leaving me even more breathless and helpless, submitting to pleasure. My first orgasm rushed over me, my legs flailing beneath him, and I thought he would stop after feeling my pussy tighten and clench around his fingers, but he didn’t. He kept going.

I waited for a few minutes that seemed like forever and then felt the cool trickle of lube between my legs. I was on all fours, propped on my elbows, and I began stroking my clit lightly with one hand. I needed to relax. I focused on my breathing as I felt a finger caress my tight hole, moving in slow circles.

“That feels so good baby,” I moaned as he teased me mercilessly.

When he finally put a finger in, I was ready, and I wanted more. When he pulled out his finger I felt something harder, a glass plug.

“Time to warm up your tight little ass,” he said as he pushed it in slowly, listening for my cues. I sighed as it passed my threshold, popping into place. Before I could move he thrust his hard cock inside my soft cunt, and I felt wet and full and ready to erupt. Raw emotions bubbled inside me, exploding from my mouth.

“I want to give you a double blow job,” I moaned from below him as he kept thrusting madly, “she’ll suck your cock, and I’ll lick your balls and your ass.”

I turned around a little so I could see that look on his face when he fucks me, the wild intensity of it.

“I can’t wait to see you fuck another pussy; I can’t wait to lick her clit while you thrust into her, you’ll fuck her good baby,” I said, closing my eyes and picturing it.

“Fuck yes,” he answered, pulling out of me quickly and pivoting me roughly towards him, pumping his cock with one hand and shoving my head toward it with the other. I swallowed him again whole, and I tasted myself on his cock and smelled my juices on his balls as my nose pressed up firmly against them. I love the way my pussy smells, and I groaned and licked and moved my mouth frantically, my animal instincts taking over. When he finally pulled out again, I could barely breathe, and I tried my best to muster up an answer when he asked roughly, “do you want me to fuck your ass now?”

“Yes,” I said, moving quickly back to my position on all fours, sticking my butt up high in the air. He tugged on the plug, which made me feel like I was going to come again, but I held back, using all of my self control not to stroke myself yet.

He stopped touching me for a minute, and images flashed through my mind: sucking two cocks at once, back and forth, a woman’s moist and plump pussy lips in my face, being thrown around like a doll, four hands between my legs.

My fantasies dissipated as I felt a warm thwack on my right ass cheek, the concentrated sting of a crop that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Harder,” I said as he brought it down again on the other check. After a few hits, I felt close to orgasm again, and nearly came when he suddenly brought it down on my pussy, the sting sending waves of pleasure, making me twitch and writhe.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped, trying not to come yet, trying to control myself, but I could hear myself moan louder and louder, as if I was outside of my body looking in, observing. He pulled out the plug, and my right hand gravitated to my pussy automatically. I squeezed my mound and cupped my hand over myself, waiting anxiously. Jake rubbed his cock over my ass; he knew I was more than ready but kept me waiting just long enough. I gasped when he finally pushed himself into me, and now I was more than relaxed and eager.

“Just right,” I answered, feeling myself getting closer. Every movement he made felt like an explosion of sensation, my tight ass squeezing him, feeling him, taking him in deeper. I got that familiar timeless sensation I usually get during sex, except this time it was all slow motion, and every thrust seemed to last forever, the feelings swelling and intensifying.

I gasped again, almost falling off of the edge of the bed as he pulled out and came, his warm semen splashing my back. I felt like I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Jake must have sensed my helplessness, as he pulled me up onto the bed before I could topple over the side. I was way too tired to shower and passed out drenched in come and sweat.

The next morning, I woke up still wet, my hand on my cunt, smiling at the memory of the previous night’s ecstasy as I felt the slickness of lube between my thighs.

For a few blurred, barely conscious moments, I forget where I am and remember a woman’s thick lips locked between my legs. As I blink past the sleep haze, I feel Jake’s warm body next to mine, and he shifts slightly. I don’t usually wake up horny, but the image of the woman in my dream is fresh and ripe in my mind, and wetness stirs between my legs, as if she was still there, still softly circling my clit with her tongue.

I wonder if Jake would be grumpy if I woke him up for sex, and then realize the thought is ridiculous. Jake is always ready for sex, even half conscious, tired, hung-over, sick, whatever. He’s facing away from me, and I roll over him, searching for his penis as I gently kiss his lips.

As soon as my hand finds him, his body awakens before he does, and he grumbles and grabs for my head, thrusting it downward roughly, eyes still closed. Half hard, I take all of him in, and he groans in approval as I bring his cock to life.

“That’s my good little mouth,” he says as he yanks my head back by a handful of hair, and I nod in an eager reply, eyes locked on his as he plunges through my throat.

I love the way his instincts take over, how he moves with such force though barely awake. Wet and ready for attention, I wiggle my butt up in the air, hinting for his gentle touch between my legs. Instead, he brings his palm down hard on one cheek and then the other, and with each spank my muscles twitch and then relax, and I can feel my now full lips throbbing in time with my frantic heartbeat.

After my messy and attentive deep throating, Jake rewards me by throwing me onto my back, peeling my legs open with a dirty smile and then covering me with his mouth, teasing. He knows that I want him inside, but he only licks and caresses until I can’t take it anymore.

“Finger me now,” I whimper, thrusting my hips up and down anxiously, “please.”

By the time he reaches in with two fingers, I feel like I am going to explode and even his first light touch almost sends me over the edge. I flush as he moves his fingers faster inside me, and then slaps my pussy with his free hand.

“Oh, fuck!” I scream, my juices running down his fingers and onto the sheets beneath.

He takes a moment to lick them, as if I’m fruit to be devoured and savored, relished. I taste myself on his lips as he kisses me and then pulls me to the edge of the bed, where he stands up, hand on his hardness.

“Do you want to get fucked now?” he asks as he rubs himself over my clit.

“Fuck, yes!”

My legs tremble as his cock fills me, and I can feel my g-spot growing each time he thrusts. My vision blurs, and I feel as if I’m in a kaleidoscope of pleasure, lost in orgasms that seem to grow and multiply uncontrollably, leaving me shaking and breathless. He puts one strong hand around my neck while he thrusts, and holds it just tight enough to make me gasp and then releases, and just when I feel like I am going to faint with ecstasy he turns me over, fucking me hard from behind as he spanks me again.

For awhile I hold myself up with one hand and caress my clit with the other, but eventually my body fatigues and I collapse beneath him, my arms almost unable to function. He flips me again, pulling me up on top of him as he stands, gripping my legs, and I use all of the energy I have left to bounce up and down on top of him.

Time seems to slow and speed up at random, and thoughts give way to only the physical: his fingers on my ass, my hand around his neck, his teeth on my ear, and oh his cock, his cock, his hard fucking cock inside me. I’m not sure if I fall or if he throws me, but soon I’m back on the bed, and he’s holding my legs up crossed in the air, and he slaps my right breast with his free hand.

“Fuck!” I yell, unable to say anything beyond those four simple letters.

He hits my other breast, harder, and my fingers grip into his legs, nails digging into his sweaty skin.

I scream again, making a scene of it, not holding anything back. My pussy tightens and pushes him out, and I rub my hand over myself as I gush all over both of us. He hits his cock against my cunt as I come and come, which makes my fluids to spray in every direction, and I giggle a little as I feel my own warm wetness sprinkle my face.

Drenched in my juices, he fucks me again, and it’s wet and messy and slippery as hell. I moan as he grasps the flesh on my hips, thrusting wildly. He pulls one of my legs up and gets me at just the right angle, and another orgasm floods over me as he grumbles, “where do you want it baby?”

“On my ass,” I demand, and he let’s go, warm cum spewing on my butt and thighs, mixing with mine and trickling between my legs.

“Oh my fucking god,” I gasp.

“I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had,” he says.

“You said that yesterday,” I say, as I laugh and moan in giddy post orgasmic bliss.